


Alone For Now

by HeartoftheNight



Series: Inevitability [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Family, Gen, Language, Marriage, Pregnancy, Sexual Content, Siblings, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 23:10:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartoftheNight/pseuds/HeartoftheNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean is hurt Ally is at his side, but will he finally let her in? Sequel to This Woman and this Man. Same criteria as before. Two part songfic starring the brothers and my OC's. No Wincest. M for language and a few lines. Complete.  Crossposted at FF.net.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sound the Bugle

**Author's Note:**

> This is a two part sequel to my other fic This Woman and this Man. Don't have to read the other one, but I think it'll help to understand this one. I meant for this to be a one chapter story, but I got bitten by a plot bunny and it got elongated. Also didn't mean for this to be a songfic, but just started hearing the song as I was writing and had to put it in.
> 
> Song for first chapter is "Sound the Bugle" by Bryan Adams.

_Sound the bugle now - play it just for me  
As the seasons change - remember how I used to be  
Now I can't go on - I can't even start  
I've got nothing left - just an empty heart_

_  
_

He's sitting in a dirty little diner is some forgettable little town in some county that he can't remember. There's news papers spread before him, obituaries, strange cases, irregular disappearances. It's what his life consists of; these little clippings about lives he knows nothing of. Can't make himself care for. They're just cases, numbers in his life. A family saved in Indiana, teenagers rescued in Ohio, a man's house cleaned of poltergeists. It's all they mean to him anymore. Once he'd cared more, once he'd cared about and remembered each life. Now that was all gone.

"Hey, hon, can I get you _anything_ else?"

The waitress is a pretty blond bimbo, all bust and legs and cherry lips, probably full of ambitions to go to Hollywood. The question is asked in an enticing purr and once he would have been all charm and "let's go out back" grin. But now he looks up and just smiles politely and shakes his head. She pouts and flounces off after leaving his check and he drops his eyes back to the papers unable to quite read the lines. He's coming to the slow realization that he doesn't know who he is anymore or what he's supposed to be doing. Before everything seemed so simple. He was hunting because his father told him to hunt. Then he was hunting to get the thing that got mom, to keep Sammy safe. Then he was hunting to run away, to hide from the one person he loved and hurt the most. But now… now there was nothing. Sammy was gone, settled down with his wife and hell, they were even expecting a kid in another week or so. Just another person whose life he'd pass through every now and then. He was just a memory, sometimes pleasant, sometimes just plain annoying, but not needed. No one needed him anymore. Not even this job needed him. There were other people, other hunters out there who could do what he did, even do it better. So why keep doing it? He can't even be with girls anymore because all he wants is _her_ , but he can't go back. He has nothing to offer, nothing to give. All he knows is how to hunt and hustle pool and scam credit card companies. What does he have to offer a rich man's daughter? So he can't go back and he can't make himself want anyone else. He's got nothing; empty.

 

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**  
**

_I'm a soldier - wounded so I must give up the fight  
There's nothing more for me - lead me away...  
Or leave me lying here_

_  
_

He can hear his head crack as he slams into the wall. It's this dull sickening crunch that travels to his ears in a round about way, taking a few moments for him to understand. _Fuck. Shit._ It's a cold hard litany rambling through his brain as blackness dances in front of his vision, encroaching eagerly on the sidelines. It's a tempting thought to let it, to just give into the pain and let it take him away. But there's red eyes looming in his blurry vision, cutting through the pain and fatigue. The thick scent of sulfur and blood is a toxic tangle invading his senses as the beast stalks closer. There's no acidic slaver dripping from its jaws like all those B rate horror movies say, only the blood it's gleaned from his body. His chest and one leg is shredded, ribs cracked, and he's bleeding to death, never mind the head wound. It's his own fault really. He didn't take the time to check this case out, do the leg work. He'd just rode up and busted through that old rotted door of another old rotted house without a care for the consequences. Because, truth be told, he doesn't really give a shit if he makes it out of this one alive. He doesn't care. He's so fucking tired, this thing can eat him right now and it won't bother him. His blood and flesh will just mingle with the stupid kids sprayed across the walls and floor that called this thing up. Really, it was bound to happen some time. Why not this one?

But when those jaws are hovering over his head, fetid sulfur and brimstone breath choking him in the smell of Hell, he finds the strength to raise his bruised and battered arm and aim the gun at the thing's _–what the hell is it anyway? Hell hound? -_ chest. His fingers are bloody and slipping on the grip and its hard to hold steady, but he squeezes the trigger and the consecrated rounds, blessed and dipped in holy water, rip through the beast. There's no sound, just a silent howl of agony as he keeps squeezing the trigger until it fades to nothing, disintegrated ashes floating away on a supernatural wind. His arm falls to the floor with a dull thud, into a pool of his own blood and some one else's as blackness takes over his mind.

 

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**  
**

_Sound the bugle now - tell them I don't care  
There's not a road I know - that leads to anywhere  
Without a light I fear that I will - stumble in the dark  
Lay right down - decide not to go on_

_  
_

Vision is an obscure thing, something his mind can't focus on but refuses to let go. But his other senses help to build the picture. Smell assaults him first. The sharp metallic scent of blood, the fading odor of sulfur, and underlying both the beginning scent of death and the must created by the old house. Sound. A hushed clap of thunder in the distance. The house is creaking but there's nothing else. No people, no animals. Touch. The wood is rough under his cheek, the hard surface making his broken body ache. He can feel the blood under his fingers, soaking his clothing. He can still feel it leaking out of his body in slow rivers. He's dying. Through the pain and haze and just pure exhaustion, he knows he's dying. And he can't care. He's tired, so fucking tired of everything that he just doesn't want to move. If he doesn't do anything he'll just die here and maybe some one will find his body and eventually Sammy will be tracked down and told and maybe not. He doesn't care. That's sort of an awakening thought, digging through the fog of fatigue and blood loss. He's always cared about Sam, what he felt, how he was doing. Half the times he hangs on because his little brother needed him. Now there's nothing. Now all he wants to do is rest. He curls his head in towards his shoulder like he does just before he goes to sleep. He lets his eyes close and drifts away.

 

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

**  
**

_Then from on high - somewhere in the distance  
There's a voice that calls - remember who your are  
If you lose yourself - your courage soon will follow  
So be strong tonight - remember who you are_

_  
_

_Yeah you're a soldier now - fighting in a battle  
To be free once more -Yeah that's worth fighting for_

" _Come on, son. Stay with me."_

" _Dad, I'm tired. I need to rest."_

" _Not right now. We're almost there. You can sleep when we get to the car."_

" _Dad, the car is really far. I don't think I can make it."_

" _Yes you can, Dean. Yes you can."_

_He stumbles and nearly falls. The only reason he's standing is his father's arm around his shoulders. "Please. Just let me go."_

" _No!" A slap stings across his cheek, adding blood to a mouth that's already full with it. "You don't give up. You're my son. You don't give up."_

It's a memory from another time, another hunt, but his father's voice is just as strong now as it was then dragging him from unconsciousness.

"Just let me go, dad. I just want to rest."

" _Dean!"_

_It's Sam and he's frightened and panicked, kneeling over him and shaking his shoulders. He just wants him to go and leave him alone. The demon's dead now. He should be allowed to rest._

" _Leave me alone, Sam."_

" _No. I won't let you go."_

_There's an arm gathering under his shoulders, lifting him from where he lays bleeding on the ground. "Please, Sam. It's dead. I don't wanna do this anymore."_

_Then Sam's holding his face and staring him down and he can see the blood._

" _Don't you dare quit on me. Don't you dare. You're my brother. You don't quit."_

"But I want to, Sam. After all I've done, it's my right. I have a right to stop." The blackness is encroaching again, persistent, demanding that he just give in, a sweet seductress that he wants to follow.

" _What is it, Dean?"_

_She's sitting beside him on the bed of a motel, his hands dangling between his knees, head bowed. On the other bed Sam is sound asleep, one hand curled under his pillow, the other draped across his mid section._

" _Nothing." It's a lie he knows she'll see through, but he wouldn't be him if he didn't try to deny._

_She curls her head onto his shoulder, cuddling against his side. "Something's bothering you." She rubs her cheek against him, the old worn out shirt soft and comforting. "Tell me."_

_He lets his head drift to rest on hers, breathing deep the scent of her hair, the softness of it against his skin. So real and comforting it's almost painful. "Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever find it," he tells her quietly. "All our lives…. It's all we've done. Hunt for this son of a bitch. For over twenty years all we've done is look for him. Why would be any closer now than when we were when we began? Sometimes it feels like it would be easier, better if we gave up."_

_They both know she can't give him an answer and she doesn't try. All she can give him is hope, something to hold onto. "I don't know, Dean. I wish I did, but I don't." She caught his chin in her fingertips and tilted it towards her upturned face. "You could find it tomorrow or twenty years from now." He tried to look away, but she held him tighter. "But that doesn't mean you have to be alone. I'll be here, Dean, for you. For always." She stretches up and presses a chaste kiss upon his mouth before settling on his shoulder again. "Besides, you're you, Dean. You don't know how to give up."_

They're right. He's a Winchester. He's _John_ Winchester's son. They don't give up. So he pushes himself to his knees, ignoring the screaming in his body, the lurching in his brain. Finds the wall with his hand and clings to it and he fights himself upright. Legs shaking sweat beading in between all the blood. Or maybe he's sweating blood. Gritting his teeth as everything in him fights against each movement, each small staggering step towards survival.

Outside it's begun to rain, a soft patter against the dirt and his car. He's in the middle of Who-Knows-Where and the nearest hospital is over an hour away, but it's his only hope. He's leaving a blood trail, sticky footprints of his fading life. Getting into the car is a painful ordeal, squeezing and pulling at his wounds and breathing is a harsh rasp and unconsciousness a very real fear. But he's in and he's conscious and stepping on the pedal. At this time of night the highway is empty and it's just him and the rain. There's a steady beat comprised of his throbbing body, tapping rain, and the thrum of the engine, soothing and begging that he just lay his head down and rest.

_No. Winchester. We don't give up._

But rest is an enticing seductress who wants him to follow her and he has such a long way to go, such a hard road to fight to survive. And he's tired.

" _Do you love me?" She's lying atop him, resting her chin on her crossed arms on his chest. Her hair is down, the thick dark ringlets falling across her pale shoulders, brushing his skin._

_His hand reaches up and he smoothes his thumb across her full lower lip. Here in this moment he's full, complete. Outside of this nothing matters. No evil, no demon to kill. It's just them and he needs nothing else anymore. "Yeah."_

There's a light blinding through his windshield and the indignant terrified scream of a car horn. He jerks the Impala back to his side of the road, shaking with not only the near death experience but the strain to stay awake, to keep fighting on and on.

_She's plastered against the wall of the crypt, eyes wide and terrified, hands clutching the gun until her skin is white, finger still pulling the trigger, but the gun is empty. There's a cut on her cheek and as soon as he sees it, he's at her side taking the gun, tangling his hand in her hair, stroking the side of her face._

" _You okay?" He's yelling it over and over because she's not looking at him, just staring where the ghost used to be._

" _Try kissing her," Sam suggests from the other side of the crypt, small amused smile playing around his mouth as he pokes around._

_Dean gives him the famous pissed off look before returning to Ally. But she's still not responding so he follows Sam's advice and presses his mouth to hers. When he pulls away she hasn't moved but she's focused on him._

" _Dean?"_

_He lets out a shaky relieved breath. He knows this job can traumatize people and though she's seen worse she's never had to pull the trigger before. "Yeah. You okay, babe?"_

_She swallows, tongue glancing across her lips. "You taste like shit."_

_Somewhere in the background Sam quite literally cackled._

Ahead there are lights flickering through the rain and the dark, beckoning him to hold on just a little longer. It feels as if there are bugs behind his eyes, clawing to be released. His body is heavy, thick and swollen with pain though his life essence was leaking away.

" _I love you, Dean." "Can we move past this?" "If you let us." "Pretend that all we were was friends."_ Her words are echoing in his mind, giving him the strength to go that last distance, to hold on and keep the wheel steady. _"Can we move past this?" "You know what I want." "I love you, Dean. Always."_

_Always. Always. Always._ It's his chant, his litany, the one thing he can focus on so he can fight, so he can make it. To live.

He almost flips his car when he veers into the turn, hitting the brakes so hard, so fast he hits the steering wheel and he almost passes out from the pain. But he can still hear her voice, his father's, his brother's, and they drive him from the car, to stumble through the doors. The hospital's emergency room is blinding and it breaks the last fabric of his will as it seers through his brain. As the world starts spinning and he falls to the floor he can see the startled faces of the nurses and doctors.


	2. Safe Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is "Safe Place" by Staind.

"Hey. Can I get you anything?"

Danny smiled up at Sam from where she was sprawled on the couch, catching the hand that was stroking her hair. "I'm good, Sam. Besides, Ally can help me if I need it." Her tone calm and sweet and reassuring as if _he's_ the one that's nine months pregnant.

He smiles and places a kiss on her forehead. "Okay. I'll be in the kitchen."

As he walks away Ally watches him with a murderous expression. She's only been at Danny and Sam's apartment for an hour but she must have watched this same conversation about twenty times now. Yeah, she totally gets that Danny is past her due date and could start dropping the baby right now, but she thinks maybe Sam is going a little too far with the attentive father-to-be thing.

"How do you stand it?" She mutters peevishly to her best friend.

Danny gives her this blissful languid smile. "I think it's quite adorable actually."

Ally gives her an incredulous look. "He's practically breathing down your neck 24/7! He's driving _me_ crazy and I've barely been here an hour!"

The other closes her eyes and tilts her head onto the back of the couch. "I wish he was breathing down my neck," she murmurs softly. "He's got this way of doing it that just…."

"No, no, no! Stop right there! I _do not_ need to hear the rest of that thought. I'll be disturbed for life. Think of my therapy bills."

Danny laughed and Ally just looked at her. She thought that the wedding was the happiest she'd ever seen her, but this was an all new high. Over nine months pregnant she was the picture of the glowing mother-to-be and quite literally glowing. All pink cheeks and bright smiles and just _happy._ A contrast to Sam who was an anxious mess. It could be amusing watching them both, sometimes so similar and other times just completely different. This appeared to be one of those different things. She supposed it had a lot to do with their upbringings. Though Danny's father never really took an interest in her life, her mother had been a devoted stabilizing staple of her being. She knew how to be a mother. Sam on the other hand was no doubt worried how much of his father, the way he was raised, would come out. She knew he had issues about it, resented and disagreed with just about everything, but a lot of the times you couldn't help mimicking your parents.

"Oh, god, he's coming back," she groaned as Sam appeared in the doorway.

"Be nice."

Just then his phone rang and after frowning at the caller I.D. he stepped back into the kitchen.

"Oh, thank heaven's, there is a God."

"Ally!" But Danny was laughing. She couldn't seem to stop. She looked over at her friend, like a big sister most of her life and sobered. "Are you… jealous?"

Ally jumped as if bitten. "No! Why would I be jealous?"

"Because, Sam and I are married and we're having a baby and…."

"And Dean can't run far enough away from me?" She finished quietly.

Danny took her hand and squeezed. "Yeah."

Ally smiled, small and sad, but it was real. "I understand Dean. I know why he's doing what he's doing. Sometimes its hard, just waiting and waiting for the time to come when he can't run anymore, but never think for I moment that I resent what you have. You and Sam… you've come through a lot and you deserve all of this."

"He'll come around, Ally, both literally and figuratively."

"Yeah I know." She squeezed the hand still holding hers. "In the meantime though, we really have to do something about Sam."

Danny started to laugh and then just stopped, her eyes glued in the direction Sam had gone earlier. Worried Ally looked over her shoulder to find Sam just standing there and staring at his phone and piece of paper.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

His wife's voice brought him out of it enough to make him look at her. "It's Dean…. He's in a… in a hospital in Virginia. He's… he's…."

"Oh, god. No. He can't be. Sam! Tell me he's not dead!"

Ally's frightened yell broke him out of his trance the rest of the way though he still looked disoriented. "No. No, he's not dead. But he's hurt, pretty bad too. They had to go through his stuff to find my number; he's unconscious, concussion or something. Oh, Jesus. I have to get up there. If there are medical decisions to be made…. I'm his next of kin." He focused on Danny. "But the baby…. I can't…. You're…."

"Sam." Ally caught his face and made him look at her. "It's alright, okay?" Her voice was calm and reassuring though she was quaking on the inside, terrified of how bad Dean really might be. "You're not going anywhere. You have to stay with Danny."

"But Dean…."

" _I'll_ go to Dean, okay? I'm going to take the first flight out and once I find out how bad it is, I'll call, you got that? And if it's bad, that bad that they need you to decide on what to do, you can fly out. But let's just take this one step at a time. You take care of Danny and I'll take care of Dean."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Sort of a role reversal, huh? All my life Dean and I have been taking care of each other and you and Danny…."

She smiled and squeezed his arm. "That's what happens when you get married. Now give me that address and I'll call you when I know anything. Oh and uh, my dad will take care of the bills."

"Dean'll love that." But he didn't argue as he copied the address to another piece of paper. She kissed them both good-bye and booked the soonest flight out as she drove to her apartment to pack.

_spnspnspn_

Dean had cracked ribs, a fair sized concussion, a bite mark in his left thigh that encircled the entire leg, and his chest had been mauled to the point where he needed way to many stitches to hold him together. He had stitches across the left side of his forehead and the eye on that side was almost swollen shut. The bandages across his chest showed through the hospital gown, his arms a litany of bruises and cuts. To her, he looked like he'd just walked through hell. Maybe he had. She knew what they did; she'd seen it first hand and even participated in a few hunts for a while. Its how she met him, when him and his father came to rescue Danny and her family. It seemed like a very long time ago and hell, maybe it was. The only way time mattered to her was how long he spent away from her. Spent away from her because of this. Because he didn't want to see her this way or worse or have her see him this way. Nearly dead, fighting for survival so he could just go out and do it again. It was all very noble to push people away to protect them, but she was near sick to death of it. He'd done it to her twice now. The first time, when they'd first fallen in love. As soon as he realized she felt as much for him as he did for her, he couldn't get on the road fast enough. The second time, well, they'd lasted longer. But when they'd tracked that demon down and realized they just about had it, well, he'd taken her heart and smashed it just to keep her safe. It was frightening in a way, the extremes he'd go to to keep the people he loved alive. She just hoped that she was strong enough to make him see that she'd rather die with him or watch him die than to have to spend another moment away.

 

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**  
**

_Another day inside my world  
I'm married to you and this road  
A road that never lets me sleep  
There's no way to escape these demons I am forced to keep_

_  
_

" _So this is what you do for a living?"_

_They're sitting on a porch swing in the predawn light. The sun is just a soft blue hue over the tree tops, all weeping willows and graceful oaks. There's gravel paths interweaving between the trees and manicured lawns in between that. Dew is clinging to the leaves, pebbling on the wood of the railings. He's got one arm draped behind her, pushing gently with one foot. She's got her own legs curled up underneath her, body angled to view his. They're both smudged in dirt and soot and the smell of gasoline._

_He gives her a tired version of his famous grin. "Yeah. Except we don't get paid."_

_She tucked a stray ringlet behind her ear. "That's gotta suck." She looked up at him from under shy lashes. "Do I want to know how you get money?"_

_He gives this slower, more suggestive form of his earlier grin. "Well, you know, I got to sell myself out occasionally."_

" _Dean!" She's several shades of darker pink under the dirt, but she's laughing with him._

_There's this comfortable silence that settles over them. They've experienced it before in the time they've spent with each other, over a week now. Over a week since Dean and his father rolled up to Danny Hathaway's home and set about taking out a horde of angry souls. There was a lot seeing as the Hathaway's used to own plantations and held slaves back in the day. It was their souls that had been disturbed by renovations, their souls they'd had to fight. The job had just been cleaned up this morning, just hours before. John is settling matters with Ally's father, Trevor, inside, leaving the two to their own devices for a short while._

" _When are you leaving?" The question is quiet and sad._

_He looks over at her, hearing the notes in her voice. "Probably stick around for another day or two, make sure the place stays quiet. We never really stay once a job is done." Just then his father steps out onto the porch, as tired and rundown as the rest. Dean stiffens to attention, stilling the motions of the swing. "Heading out, sir?"_

_John had been staring at them, sort of looking at them and sort of looking through them. "Yeah. Got your gear, son?"_

_The younger man swallows and nods his head. "Yes, sir."_

_John nods. "Alright," he sighs, but he doesn't move. He keeps looking from the screen door to his beaten down son waiting patiently for his next order. "Trevor asked us to stay a while, at least until we find another case. He's offered to let us stay at his place."_

_Dean suddenly has this light feeling building in his stomach and expectancy crackles around him. "And?"_

_John looks back at the door, his son, and sighs like he's finally come to a decision. "I think we could both use the rest, some time off."_

_Ally's biting her lip trying to hide the goofy grin that's wanting to just glow like mad. "So ya'll are moving in for a little while?"_

_John looks at her and smiles and it's the first smile Dean has seen on his father's face for a long while. "Yeah, I guess. Until the next hunt anyway."_

" _Or until Trevor throws us out," Dean supplies cheerfully as he clambers quickly off the swing so they can pack up from the cheap motel and move into a real house if just for a while. As he clatters down the steps he hears Ally's voice behind him._

" _Don't be gone long, soldier."_

_  
_

He can feel the bright light burning his eyes behind the lids and there's this recurrent annoying beep going on in the background. He wants to open his eyes, to speak, to tell some one to turn down the damn lights and shut that fucking thing off, but his throat is dry and sore and it feels like some one has super glued his lids shut.

"Look's like he's coming around, sir." The voice is curt and female.

"Here, let me see." Male and….

And that's all he has time to think before his right eyelid is jerked open and _there's a fucking flashlight being stuck in his eye._ "Fuck," he croaked trying to pull away. "What the hell you doing?" He's finding his voice a little easier to come by, but his eyes want to stay firmly closed, thank you.

"Well, seems like he's doing fine," the man commented dryly. "You can tell the police he'll probably be able to answer questions in a few minutes."

 _Police? Oh hell no._ He makes himself open his eyes, sees an elderly man in a white coat standing over him. "Where the hell am I?" _I sound like a goddamn frog. I'm_ _ **croaking.**_

"You're in the hospital. You arrived here the other night. Do you remember anything?"

 _Blood and screams and stepping in eviscerated teenagers. Pain as the hell-thing mauls and throws him about like a dead rat. Pulling the trigger until the fucking thing just_ _ **died.**_ _Wanting to die himself, the long drive back to the town._ Oh yeah. He remembered. "Yeah, it all just came back to me. Thanks, doc."

The elderly man ignores the sarcasm. "Can you give a statement to the police? They've been waiting here for you to wake up."

"Well that's sweet. Tell them I said thank you, I really appreciate that they care so much."

Once again the old man ignored the sarcasm and made his way to the door. "I'll take that as a yes. They should be right in."

"Great."

 

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**  
**

She'd gone for a cup of coffee, taking a break from her vigil at Dean's bedside. She'd called Sam the moment the doctors had left her alone and told him of his brother's condition. He'd still wanted to come but that would have left no one to look after Danny, so she'd talked him into compliance. Then she'd just waited. And waited. At one point she'd fallen asleep at his bedside. Hence the coffee run. When she'd returned, she'd heard voices coming from his room. Peeking through the window she saw the police officers and Dean sitting up, talking to them and she felt the relief nearly buckle her knees.

"Anyway, I saw the road to the house and pulled off so I could take a leak," Dean was telling them, voice rough and quiet. "Saw the lights flickering, started hearing the screams. So I went to my car and pulled out my gun…."

"Does the firearm happen to be registered?" One of the officers cut it, looking up from his notebook.

Dean gave him one of his signature looks of annoyance. "Look it, _officer,_ I travel. A lot. I don't have a permanent residence and the friends I have…. Let's just say it wouldn't look good for them to have guns registered in their names. The road's a dangerous place. A man needs protection."

The other officer, the one that hadn't interrupted with the question, nudged his companion in a way that told him to let it go. "Please continue."

"By the time I got to the house the lights were out and the screaming had stopped. Opened the door and all I saw was the blood and the…. Well, you know. I didn't see whatever did it, so I thought it might be safe. Went in to look for survivors and then something just broadsided me. When I tried to fight it off it just picked me up and flung me against the wall like I was nothing. I think I might've blacked out for a second. When I came to it was standing above me, looking mighty hungry."

"Did you happen to see what it was?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah, to dark. Just saw some teeth, smelt some really bad breath. Managed to lift my gun and just started firing. I think I must have hit it because it ran away. After that I passed out again, I don't know for how long. When I woke up everything was quiet, it had started to rain. Got to my car and drove here. That's all I remember."

Pissy officer looked like he wanted to ask some more questions, but the nicer one cut in. "Thank you, sir. It was brave of you to go in there. A lot of people would have just run to the nearest phone."

Dean just shrugged at the compliment and the officers turned to leave, but stopped at his question.

"Hey, did any of the kids make it out of there?" He was concerned and trying not to show it.

Nice Policeman looked back at him and shook his head. "No. Whatever it was did a good job of making sure that there was no one left."

"Do you have any idea what it might be?"

"People are saying a bear. We've got a park ranger coming in to look at the…. We'll see what he has to say, but its gotta be some animal, right?"

"Yeah, some animal."

"Well, we'll leave you to your rest. It looks like your girlfriend might want to talk to you anyway."

Dean frowned. "My girlfriend? I don't…."

The officers were leaving and after a polite nod to them, Ally stepped through the door. She watched Dean's eyes widen and the unconscious way he scanned the room for exits.

"Hey," she murmured softly.

He watched her warily. "Hey." His throat moved as he watched her approach, sit beside his bed, take his hand and hold it between both of hers. "What are you doing here?"

Tears were prickling behind her eyes, tears of relief that he was okay, and she felt stupid. You weren't supposed to cry when some one was going to be all right. It was just silly. "The doctors called Sam when you got hurt," she told him quietly, watching his face. His eyes were on her, still half closed, his skin pale, stubble thicker than usual. She just wanted to lean forward and kiss him, cradle his head in her hands, and just hold on. Hold on and never let go ever again. But she couldn't. It would just make him angry and he didn't have the strength for that right now. "I was with him and Danny when he got the call. He wanted to come but Danny's due date was almost a week ago now and the doctors said you were stable so I came instead."

He took a shaky breath and sunk a little farther into the pillows. "Oh man. Let me guess; he's a basket case?"

She grinned. "Close on it, but Danny's dealing with it very well."

Dean chuckled then groaned, lifting a hand to press to his aching chest.

She sobered quickly, remembering where they were. It was easy to forget sometimes, being so close to him. "So what really happened?"

"Oh, you know how the story goes. Kid wants a dog, daddy says no, so kid does satanic ritual, calls up one of Hell's little puppies, puppy decides doesn't like new owner, kids end up all over the walls."

She lowers her head and swallows, vivid images appearing in her mind. While traveling with him and Sam she'd seen devastation to scales she hadn't known were possible. They'd run into a fair amount of ghosts and whatnots and all had been nasty so it's easy for her to see what he might of gone through.

"Ally…."

"No," she cuts him off, meeting his gaze defiantly. "No."

His jaw clenches and he looks away and she knows he's going to shut her out, freeze away her want to be close to him. So she stands and eases herself slowly onto the bed next to him, tucking one leg beneath her, sees how he flinches from the pain of even the small movement, the dip in the mattress.

"What's the damage report?" He asks thickly. He doesn't really care; he just wants to send her on another track because he can't deal with the one they're heading down.

She took his hand in hers again, rubbing her thumb in slow circles over the reddened knuckles. "Well, it looks like the thing that got you thought your thigh was a pretty tasty drumstick," she began and he chuckled, but refrained from commenting. "Then I guess he thought he wanted some breast meat. I don't know why, its all muscle-y and tough." This time he smirked. "And I'm guessing that that comment about being thrown against the wall is where you got that nice lump on the back of the head. Guess he figured out you really weren't that good to eat."

This time he couldn't help himself. He was Dean, he had to say something. "Aren't I though?" He's got that dirty look on his face that he has whenever he says something like that.

She felt herself blush, can't understand why she still does after all this time. She's been around him for years and he's always been the same way. Her blushing switch should really be turned off permanently.

"Any thing else?"

"Your ribs are cracked, just about every single one, and you'd lost so much blood you'd needed transfusions. You almost didn't make it." Her voice cracked and the tears were angry hot irons burning the back of her eyes and filling her throat.

His face was an open mask of pain and regret. "Ally, this is why I don't want you near me. This is what my life is, what happens when a job goes a little south. This is how its gonna end for me."

"No." Its one swift word of denial and she can't resist anymore. Her hand cups his cheek and she leans in, mouth hovering a moment before catching his. It's just a gentle touch of lips, a soft caress, chaste even. Her eyes drift shut, her hand shaking where she holds him. This is the first time they've kissed since he left her, the first time either of them has had contact like this since that night. He wants to pull away, to push her away both literally and figuratively, but he can't make his body listen. Then she's pulling back, his lower lip catching on hers and he sucks it in to collect the last of her, the last bit he'll ever have or so he tells himself. But then she's leaning in again and this time he raises a hand to her shoulder, fingers curling gently around her, but he's not pushing away and she's kissing him again and its more than the first. It's longer and deeper and more desperate because that first contact has reignited memories that have dimmed through the years. But she can feel his hand tightening its hold and she knows he's gathered the strength to push her away, so she pulls back, just far enough to break contact, but still close enough for her to see the flecks in his eyes.

"I want to be with you," she tells him softly. "You don't understand that I'd rather see you like this, be like this or worse, than live my life any longer without you. I need you, Dean. And I can't stop needing you." She stroked his cheek. "And you need me too."

A dozen nasty comebacks that would surely chase her away leap into his mind, but none can seem to travel down to his vocal cords. "Ally…." But he doesn't know what he's trying to say. She's right. He does need her. It was her voice he heard most of all, her whispered words that helped him hold on the strongest. But he couldn't… he had to keep her safe because no matter how much she was okay with getting hurt, he wouldn't be able to deal with it. If he saw her, like this…. He thought he might go mad.

"I'm not going to stop fighting for you." Her voice is soft but determined. "I'll never stop fighting for you." She gave a final caress to his cheek then stood. "I'm going to call Sam and ask the doctors when you can be released. Get some sleep." She knows she's beating a hasty retreat, but she doesn't know what else to do. If she stays and fights with him it will go nowhere. If she leaves he can't argue and the thought of freedom from a hospital will surely take his mind off of what she'd just said moments before.

 

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

**  
**

_But then I find ...you here  
Through your eyes everything's clear  
And I'm home inside your arms  
But I'm alone for now_

_  
_

"Hey, soldier, you ready to go?"

She's leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed. She's freshly showered, her hair back up in its familiar pile atop her head, make up in place. It tells him that she's gone and collected herself, but it's not a mask. She doesn't like to appear weak and she isn't, but she doesn't hide her emotions. Controls, yes, but doesn't hide.

"Yeah, more than ready."

He's sitting on the edge of his hospital bed after struggling with his clothes for more than half an hour. Ally had brought them in before she'd gone to a motel to take her shower and change her clothes. He'd stubbornly refused any assistance and had paid the price in pain. But his pride was still intact which, in the end, was all that mattered.

"Alright, let me get the nurse."

"I don't need…."

But she was already gone. She was back in a moment with a guy and a wheelchair.

"I don't need to be wheeled out of here like a gimp."

"Hospital policy, sir," the male nurse responded calmly, putting an arm around Dean's shoulders.

"Get off me, man," he snarled, shrugging the offending arm off. "I can do it myself."

Ally watched in amusement as he stiffly slid off the bed and sat grumpily in the chair. She knew she could've argued with them on Dean's behalf, but she was enjoying the scene a little too much.

"Let's get out of here," he told her impatiently.

She grinned as she walked beside him, feeling the waves of irritation flowing off him. It was an enjoyable thing to get Dean pissed. She so rarely had the opportunity she was willing to jump on the first one that came by, even if he was injured. In fact, that was the best time to get him because then he couldn't retaliate. Which just added to the pissed off part and made it more enjoyable. And it was all compounded by the fact that he'd found out she and her dad had paid for his medical bills.

As soon as they were out the door he was out of the chair and stalking stiffly towards his car. She kept pace with him and had to still a laugh when he searched his body for his keys. Finally realizing he didn't have them anymore he turned to her.

"Give me my keys."

"What keys?"

"Ally…." His voice was low and menacing.

"Oh, you mean these keys?" She asked innocently, dangling them just out of his reach.

"Give 'em to me."

"Uh, no."

"Ally, give me the goddamn keys."

"Sorry, no can do. I'm driving."

"It's my car. I drive."

"No."

"I'm not gonna stand here and argue you with all freaking day."

"Then don't. You can ride shotgun."

Usually this argument would end with him grabbing her and prying the keys from her fingers, but he was to hurt to do that this time. She watched the muscle in his jaw tick for a moment before he stomped to the other side of the car. She grinned, unlocking the doors and folding herself into the driver's seat and pulled out of the hospital. After an hour of not talking, she stuck in one of his cassettes and let the music fill the voids.

 

_spnspnspn_

_  
_

"We're never gonna have anything, Ally."

He tells her this that night while they're sitting in their motel room. They haven't talked most the day, just the necessities, and now he springs this on her. She does her best to sink the hurt, but its there and very real. She wishes she could just freeze it, but it's what gives her the strength to keep fighting for them. "Yeah? Why's that?"

He's propped up on pillows, staring stubbornly at the wall. "You know why."

She watches him, biting her lip because she wants to scream. At the wedding she'd broken through, but in the time that has passed, he's built his walls up again and he's not letting them down. "No, I know _your_ reason why you won't let me in and I think it's stupid."

He flashes a glare at her now, hot and searing. "Wanting you to have a decent life, to _be_ alive is stupid?" This has been boiling for years now and the flash point has been reached.

She swings her legs down off the bed so she's facing him, all the contained anger and hurt radiating off her. "Yeah, I do. I'm an adult, Dean. I can make my own decisions. You don't have the _right_ to make them for me!"

"I don't have the right? I don't have the _right?!_ I _know_ what I do, how dangerous it is. I've lived with it since I was four years old. I've seen the people I love the most die, alright? You're not gonna be on that list."

"So what? I'm supposed to just turn off my feelings, just decide to stop loving you?"

"Just move on with your life, Ally. Pretend that I'm dead, whatever it takes."

"How am I supposed to do that when _your_ brother is married to _my_ best friend, you shithead?"

He blinked a couple of times at that. She was never really one for swearing and when she did it always caught him off guard. "Ally, we can't be together." It's quiet and defeated because it's getting hard to remember why he pushed her away in the first place.

She's had enough. She scoots off her bed and crawls onto his, straddling him on all fours before he can push her off. The need to just lie across him, to press their bodies together completely like she used to is almost too strong to resist, his injuries the only thing holding her back. His hands are on her hips, to hold her away or an instinctive act she doesn't know, doesn't care because she's pressing her mouth to his and its not the soft timid kiss of the hospital. It's full and deep and desperate, her lips stroking across his coaxing them open, touching her tongue to his. His gasp is stifled, fingers digging into her skin so hard she knows there'll be bruises there in the morning. Her hand is clasped against the side of his neck, thumb brushing against his earlobe, pulling him deeper into the kiss. And she thinks she has him, that he's given in, but he chooses that moment to pull away, pushing her far enough off that he can stare her in the eye.

"Ally, no. I won't."

She swallows down her frustration, makes herself stroke his face gently instead of slapping some sense into him. "How can you say this is wrong when it still feels like that after all this time?" She asks quietly.

He doesn't answer her question. "You have to let me go."

And suddenly she can't do it anymore. She's tired and exhausted and stressed out and she can't take anymore tonight. So she crawls off him and back to her own bed, curling on her side, facing away from him and cries. Keeps crying until she falls asleep and part of her hopes he hears and feels as much pain as she does and another just wishes she could fade away into nothingness.

 

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

**  
**

_I mean the best with what I say_

_It doesn't always sound that way_

_I never learned to work things out_

_Cause in my family all we ever seem to do is shout_

_  
_

The next morning they piled into the car without a word. He can feel the hurt and the anger coming off her though her face is serene. He knows she's built her attacks back up, that she's waiting for the right moment to launch. Or maybe waiting for him to break. He doesn't know but he cares. He heard her crying through half the night, told himself it was for the best for even longer. Better she suffers now and let him go than keep holding onto him and hurting more. He couldn't understand why she couldn't get it, why they couldn't be together. His life was dangerous with nothing to show for it. He couldn't give her a home or any sort of stability. Hell, he couldn't even pay for his own medical bills. She'd had to do that for him. She was a rich man's daughter. Fuck, she'd grown up in a _mansion._ A mansion. And where had he spent his childhood? Cheap ass motels and sleazy bars, scamming drunks for their cash. That's what he still did. He wasn't even like Sam. At least he'd had enough brains to get himself a full ride scholarship to one of the more prestigious colleges America had to offer. And him? He'd barely squeezed through high school. Ally herself had gone to college, of her own smarts as much as her father's money. So he was at the short end of the stick and she just couldn't understand.

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" They'd been on the road several hours, were only a few hours away from Sam's and Danny's. He wanted this cleared up before they reached there. They didn't need anymore stress. As it was, they both weren't answering their cell phones, leaving the two in the car to surmise that there'd been a rush to the hospital in their absence.

"I tend not to when my life is at stake," she answered, short and clipped.

He looked at her, hard. "Being over dramatic much?"

She didn't look at him, gaze steady on the road. "You love me." It wasn't a question and it caught him off guard.

"What?"

She flicked her eyes to him. "You love me."

He stared at her a moment more, throat working, the muscle in his jaw twitching, then turned his gaze to the window. But he didn't say no so that meant yes. And she knew that.

"You love me but you're telling me I can't love you, is that right?"

"Ally, it's different for me."

"No, Dean, its not. Not at all. You're telling me not to torture myself by being in love with you, but you won't follow your own hypocritical advice." She was flicking her gaze between him and the road, nailing him to the passenger side door with her fury. "What? You're allowed to be in pain and I'm not? How does it work, Dean? How?!"

"Because I have nothing to give you!" He exploded.

"So that's what this is all about? Your pride?"

" _My_ …." He couldn't even speak he was so choked with outrage. "My pride?! Ally, it's a lot deeper than that."

"Really? Because its hard to tell. I mean, the last time you kicked me out the door it was because that fucking demon might get me. He's dead so that excuse is gone. So now its because you can't, what, buy me a Mercedes or something?"

"Ally, I can't give you _anything!_ " He held up his hand and began ticking off his belongings on his fingers. "All I own are my guns, my clothes, my tapes, and my goddamn car! It's all I have!"

"That all I want, Dean!" She yelled right back at him. "All I need is you. I'd give up everything, my father's home, all of it, for you. Why can't you understand that?"

"Why can't you understand that I want you to have a better life than I did? That I want my children to have better?"

"Dean, it's not your choice…." Then she stopped the other half of what he said sinking in. "You want kids?" It took the yell out of her voice, leaving shocked surprise.

He looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, I want kids." Quiet and free of most of the pain that had been there moments before.

"Oh." Pause. "When?"

He laughed. At first it was just a short bark, then it turned into more, tugging a smile onto her lips. "Never, at the rate I'm going."

"Dean." A soft quiet murmur. "I want to be with you. For the rest of my life. And kids… they're definitely in the picture I've dreamed of."

He looked at her and he had that tortured look upon his face, bruised and about ready to break. "Ally, I'm going to live this life until the day I die. What kind of life could I give you, give our kids?"

"Dean, we could have a home. We wouldn't have to be living on the road all the time. There could be a place that we go back to. Or where we could wait for you." It was quiet and persuasive because she knew she was breaking through, that he couldn't hold up his façade much longer.

"You're telling me you'd wait for me while I'd go out and hunt, wondering if I'm alive, if you're gonna get a call from a police station twelve states away telling you I'm dead?"

"Once we had kids, yeah, I'd do that, Dean." She looked at him long and hard. "I've waited this long for you, what's a few weeks here and there?"

"The job would come above everything. Before birthdays and Christmas' and Thanksgivings, births, deaths. Everything."

"I know. And I'd live with that because anything else isn't worth it."

For long moments there was silence, silence in where he was wrapped in his pain and conflictions until he finally whispered, "I can't do this right now."

And she nodded her understanding and let it drop.

 

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

**  
**

_But then I find ...you here  
Through your eyes everything's clear  
And I'm home inside your arms  
But I'm alone for now ...alone for now_

_  
_

They let themselves into Sam's apartment because no one answered when they knocked and rung the bell. There wasn't a spare key so Dean had had to pick the lock, not a fun pastime when he was as beat up as he was. Ally dragged him to the bathroom after that and made him clean and change his bandages and take his pills. He didn't argue with her this time because he was still beat up and drained from the conversation in the car. Then he was deposited on the couch while she went to get him food. He was just settling in when the door suddenly popped open and Sam burst through the door.

"Sammy?"

He stopped a moment in surprise, the door still hanging open behind him. "Dean? You okay?"

Dean's brows twitched. "Uh, yeah, I'm good, what's up with…." But Sam had only waited for the confirmation of his good health before sprinting further into the apartment. "You?" He finished watching where his brother had vanished and then looking up to where Ally had appeared.

"Dean?"

Before he could answer though, Sam burst back out with several bags in hand and took out running, slamming the door behind him. For several moments the two left in the room looked at the door and then finally at each other. The smile tugged at Dean first. The laughter bubbling from her.

"Oh man. I don't know that guy, I swear," he chuckled.

_spnspnspn_

Two hours later they were sitting on the couch together watching TV when they heard the doorknob rattling. They both looked up in time to see Sam open the door and then step back out and help Danny in while she held a small bundle close to her chest. Dean watched as Ally rose to assist Sam with the bags so he could help his wife sit on the couch. Danny was moving stiffly, letting Sam help carry her weight until she was seated. In her arms the little bundle squirmed then stilled. Dean stared at it with something akin to curiosity and terror. The blanket that the baby was bundled in was yellow which was universally known to be the neutral color for babies. That was either his niece or nephew in that blanket. Sammy's kid. He must be getting old.

"Dean?" Danny's voice was gentle and questioning.

He focused on her. "Yeah?"

She scooted a little closer to him. "You want to meet her?"

He swallowed, emotion he didn't know how describe settled deep there. "You had a girl?" It's a stupid question and oh so un-suave but they're the only words he can seem to manage.

She smiled softly at him. There were dark shadows under her eyes and she looked worn out, but at the same time she was radiant underneath it all. "Yeah. You want to hold her?"

He looked down at the little face made available for his eyes now and suddenly felt filthy. What right did he have to touch this child, his brother's child, with all the blood on his hands? How much death had they caused, those flesh covered bones? Innocence shouldn't be touched by one such as him. "I don't know, Danny. She'd probably be frightened of me."

"Nonsense," she scolded. "Here."

She shifted her child into his arms and he had no choice but to hold her or drop her. He cradled the little head and shoulders in one hand and the rest of the little body in his other just like his mother and father had taught him when Sammy was born. He remembered how Sammy used to hate being held away, demanding to be snuggled in close to a chest or throat and he pulled this new little baby in closer. She was awake and her little cloudy blue eyes watched him, mouth moving creating drool. It made him smile and he stroked a thumb across her cheek wiping it away. How many times had he done something like that for Sam when he was a baby? How many times had he held him like this since their mother died?

"What's her name?" When she didn't immediately answer he looked up. "Danny?"

She glanced over her shoulder to where Sam was standing, watching them quietly, then back at him. "We named her Mary." She saw the grief and something else hit his face and he looked back down at the child in his arms. "Mary Anne Winchester, for your mom and mine. We didn't… we weren't sure if that was alright with you."

His head shot up in surprise, body jerking, and little Mary began to wiggle and fuss at the sudden movement. He rocked her and soothed her until she quieted before looking back to her parents. "No… it's… its perfect." He smiled down at the baby. "Mary Anne Winchester."

 

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**  
**

_When I try to sleep  
The drugs I take  
Are killing me  
I think of you to ease my pain  
But you're so far_

_  
_

It was strange and yet somehow natural to see Dean with an infant in his arms. Looking at him most people would think he'd be the most awkward person to be holding a baby. He'd helped put that image in place. But he held her with such ease, knew how to support her head and cradle her body like he'd done it for years. She supposed he had. Between Sam and Dean and John himself she'd gathered that their father had never been… well… much of a father. Most of the important things came down to Dean to handle. So this was all very natural for him though the emotions… they were something he didn't know how to deal with. He'd always had to ignore them and put them aside for his own survival and the need to keep his family together, to keep peace. He put himself second to keep everything together. It was a sharp contrast to the image he showed the world, one even his own family had believed. She'd believed it too when she first met him. But she came to know him, to see through the masks and to the man beneath. Sometimes caught between child and man. A bruised little boy and a conflicted and tortured man. He'd put all he was into his family since that night his mother died and without them he'd fall apart. Sam said he had just about done that when their father died. He'd been injured and just wanted to die, had tried to let himself die. It was frightening that they meant that much to him, but another part of him that she loved. She knew also that even though he wanted to hold himself away from this new little addition that had his mother's name he was being helplessly pulled in. She was another that would have all of him because that's what he gave to all his family. Himself and everything he had to offer. She hoped one day to be able to place a similar little bundle into his arms and have that from him. And by the look upon his face when Danny told him her daughter's name, he wanted the same thing. There'd been grief at his mother's name being bestowed upon some one else. And there'd been longing. Longing to have had the right to do it first, to have had a child to give that name to.

Seeing him, watching him with the baby, made her finally see why he was pushing her away, why he didn't want her to love him. He believed he couldn't give her this, home and family. It's all he wanted, needed. He understood home in a way that Sam never could, never knew. It never mattered to Sam where they were, if he lived in a motel or an apartment, because he'd never known what home felt like. But Dean, he'd known, and ever since he'd lost it he'd longed for it. He understood that home was more than a house, more than a permanent residence that you came back to each day. Home was love, was family, stability, safety. Home was somewhere that you went where you knew you were safe, where you were loved because the people you loved were there. So much more and he knew. And believed he could never have, never give.

It broke her to realize this is why he wouldn't let her in. He couldn't give her everything so he believed it was better if he gave her nothing. Pushing and holding her away because he was afraid of failing, of not being enough. And she realized now what her earlier offer had meant to him. She'd given him something she hadn't even realized he'd needed; to be his home no matter what. It was suddenly a heavy burden on her shoulders, terrifying, but she knew she could never walk away from it. She'd told him the truth when she'd said she'd wait for him, that she'd always wait for him. She wouldn't break that promise, couldn't. She just hoped she could make him see that.

_spnspnspn_

He couldn't sleep. He wanted to, hell his body was begging him to, but he couldn't. The couch was better than half the motel beds he'd slept in, but still he couldn't. His mind was bouncing around his skull like he'd just had ten cups of coffee. From one thing to the next it just kept going. Memories of him and Sam as kids, as adults, flashes of his niece, his father, his mother. Things just kept jumbling around together, mixing and shaking and leaving him jittery. He needed something to focus on, something to still his mind. The TV was a joke and reading impossible. He'd never had much of an inclination towards it anyways. His eyes flitted around the darkened living room, found a picture hanging on the wall. With the light from the TV he could just make out what it was. Thanksgiving Dinner at Ally's father's house, months before they found the demon. They were all there, in it, laughing and happy. His father, Ally's parents, Sam and Danny and him. They were all there, all happy. Ally had one of those small little smiles on her lips, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, head resting on his shoulder. They weren't quite together then and she'd curled herself into the pose just to tick him off. He'd played the part, faking anger at having to hold her back for the camera when in truth he'd enjoyed nothing more. His smile had been real, his hold on her just as much. His true feelings hid behind jokes and other less deep emotions. The story of his life, wasn't it?

Annoyed with himself and his train of thought and knowing that sleep was never going to come, he pulled himself from the couch and stumbled into the kitchen, flinching at the bright florescent lights. He didn't know why he bothered thinking of her, why he tortured himself with thoughts of her. They were over, it was settled. She was better off without him, could have everything that he couldn't give her if she just moved on.

He settled himself at the table with a stack of newspapers, looking for cases but he couldn't read the lines. After seeing what Danny and Sam had created, little Mary Anne, he knew he had nothing, didn't have the right to anything. He'd caused too much death, seen too much to have a right to that. How damaged would a child be to have him as their father? He was a ruined man with nothing to offer and really that was the whole point to it. You had children to give them everything you knew. And all he knew was killing.

"Dean?"

He jolted at Sam's voice, raised his head from where it rested in his hands. "Hey, Sam."

His brother stepped the rest of the way into kitchen, dressed in a T-shirt and sweats, hair disheveled and eyes bloodshot. "What are you doing up?" He asked tiredly as he stumbled to the sink for a glass of water.

Dean couldn't help the smirk, pushing it past the fatigue. "Might ask you the same thing."

Sam huffed out a laugh as he dropped into a char opposite. "2am feeding."

He laughed. "Yeah, I remember those. You woke up the whole house every time."

"Yeah, well, you know the saying. Payback's a bitch."

Dean chuckled, let it fade away into a comfortable silence.

"Looking for a new case already?" Sam asked after a while, indicating the newspapers.

"Yeah. Couldn't sleep, figured I'd do some work."

"Find anything?"

He shrugged. "Didn't really look."

Sam's face went solemn, concerned. "You've been kind of quiet all day," he observed hesitantly.

Dean rolled his eyes knowing where he was going with this. "Cracked ribs kinda kill the want to talk, know what I mean?"

"Dean…." He sighed, combed a hand through his messy hair. "Ally told me that you two talked."

"Regular little broadcasting system," he muttered turning away.

"Dean." He was getting frustrated, angered by his brother's absolute stubbornness. "Just stop it, alright?!"

"Stop what?"

"Being an idiot!"

"Excuse me?"

"You're an idiot," Sam told him in a tone that said that this was the clearest thing in the world.

Dean could all but feel his hackles rise. "How's that?"

"Because you've gotten it into your head that you're not good enough for anyone!"

It hit way to close to home. He wrenched himself out of the chair, stalked to the sink intending to fill a glass with water. "I don't know what you're talking about." But his hands were shaking and he couldn't do more than grip the edge of the counter to keep himself still.

"Yeah, Dean, you do." Sam's tone was quiet and placating. "You don't think you can give Ally what she wants, what you think she needs."

Dean looked over his shoulder at his brother, standing now, braced for a fight. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"If you're saying I haven't felt it then you're right. I haven't. But I know you're feeling it. That you're to stubborn and thick headed to get it through your skull that you have more to offer than just about anyone."

"I've got blood on my hands, Sam!" He hadn't meant for it to come out, couldn't stop the rest now that he'd spoken. "I kill things. Bad things, but its all I know. How to kill. What can I give anyone, especially a kid?"

"The most precious thing that anyone could ever offer."

"Yeah?" He scoffed. "What's that?"

"The fact that you know how much they're worth, how absolutely precious they are. You know better than anyone how much they'd mean to you, how easy it is to lose some one, and you'd value them above everything. Ally and your kids, they'd know every moment of every day how much they meant to you because you couldn't help letting them know. Even without saying a word they'd know. What more could you give anyone? The knowledge that they're loved, completely?"

It shook him. It shook him down to his very core. He'd never seen it that way, knew what Sam was saying was the truth. If he had Ally, if they had a family….

"Dean, if there's one thing I've never questioned in my life, it's the fact that you loved me. With dad the demon always came first. But with you… I knew no matter what, that you loved me, that you'd give your life for me. No demon or revenge or anything would come between that. And I always knew that. Even when I was in my emo funks spouting off about how no one cared for me and all the 'I just want to be normal' rants."

It made him laugh, tears catching in it and mangling it, but it was a laugh, easing the wounds in his heart.

"Do you really think I'd…?" But it was too sappy and vulnerable sounding and he stopped.

But Sam knew what he was going to ask. "Dean, you'd be a great dad. I mean, you raised me more than dad did half the time and look how I turned out."

He smirked. "That's a real vote of confidence there, Sammy."

"Ha, funny," he scoffed, cuffing his shoulder.

Dean grabbed at the spot. "Ouch, wounded, Sammy."

"It's Sam. Now go get some sleep, man." He shoved him back towards the living room and Dean complied, stumbling back to his makeshift bed. And he found that now he could finally sleep.

 

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

**  
**

_Now its time to say goodbye  
I love you baby please don't cry_

_  
_

The next morning found him standing on the steps of Sam's apartment, Ally leaning in the doorway in front of him. He'd said his good-byes to his brother and Danny and little Mary. All there was left was Ally before he could go on the hunt he'd found earlier. And she was the hardest.

"You'll be careful, right?" She asked softly. She felt so awkward after everything they'd said to each other, the sides she'd seen of him.

"Aren't I always?"

She gave him a pointed looking over and raised her brows.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah." Then quieter, under his breath, "get half eaten by a hellhound once and they never let you live it down."

She smiled and he smiled back. There was more she wanted to say, needed to say, but something was different about him and she didn't want to push things to far, afraid if that she pushed too hard he'd close off again.

"I'll be careful, I promise." His tone was exasperated, misinterpreting her hesitant silence.

"I know," she whispered. "It's just that…. I…."

He waited, whole body stilling when she stepped out of the doorway and right up to him.

"Will you come back?" There were tears hovering behind her eyes, but crowding in front was hopeless expectancy.

He found he no longer wanted to say no, to push her away. He couldn't stay right now, but that didn't mean he didn't want to come back. "Yeah."

A trembling smile appeared on her lips, held there a moment before she pressed her mouth to his. Its as chaste and undemanding as that first kiss in the hospital, but filled with all the promises of what will be waiting for him if he returns.

She pulls away first, telling him that she'll always let him go when he needs too, but in no way is she letting go of him. And the small little things that are never said are what mean the most. He touches the back his knuckles to her cheek, thumb stroking across the top before he turns around and leaves.

 

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

**  
**

_And then I find ...you here  
Through your eyes everything's clear  
And I'm home inside your arms  
But I'm alone for now ...alone for now_

_  
_

He has a long drive ahead of him. Days of traveling to get there, days more to solve the case, and even more before he can go back. And that's what he's thinking about as he crosses state lines alone in his car, nothing but him and his music. He's got somewhere, _some one_ to go back to now. Before there was nothing, no one who he had to go to. He just hopped from one motel to the other, going state to state with nothing waiting behind. But that's changing now. He's alone for now, on the open road. It doesn't mean he's alone forever though.

 

_spnspnspn_

_  
_

She watches him leave, the familiar black body of his car disappearing around a corner. He's left but she's smiling because it's all different now. She's alone right now but it wont be forever and that's all that matters.


End file.
